


Can You Hold Me

by Nightwingshero



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:53:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23988433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightwingshero/pseuds/Nightwingshero
Summary: It had been months since it happened. Months of not talking or comforting one another, and Wren has reached her limit. She can't remember when it happened, everything a haze of grief and tears, but all she knows is that suddenly John's not coming home at night, and maybe...well, maybe they weren't meant to be after all. Maybe he moved on to someone that was enough for him, because she doesn't feel like she's it anymore.
Relationships: Female Deputy | Judge/John Seed
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	Can You Hold Me

**Author's Note:**

> It feels like a tear in my heart  
> Like a part of me missing  
> And I just can't feel it  
> I've tried and I've tried  
> And I've tried  
> Tears on my face I can't take it  
> If lonely is a taste then it's all that I'm tasting  
> Do you hear my cry?  
> I cry, oh  
> Can you hold me?  
> Can you hold me?  
> Can you hold me in your arms?  
> Just wrap me in your arms, in your arms  
> I don't wanna be nowhere else  
> Take me from the dark, from the dark  
> I ain't gonna make it myself  
> Put your arms around me  
> Put your arms around me  
> Let your love surround me  
> I am lost  
> I am lost  
> If I ain't got you here  
> If I ain't got you, I ain't got nothing at all
> 
> Can You Hold Me - NF

It was so hard some days, to get up and go on like nothing was missing in our lives. The house that was supposed to be loud with cries was quiet. Every night, I would go to bed first. I would lay, facing the wall, and sit alone in my own thoughts. It didn’t start that way. No, in the beginning I would curl up into a ball and cry as he held me, rub my back and run his fingers through my hair. He tried; Lord knows how he tried. He did everything he could to help ease the pain, to comfort me in any way he could, but it was hard for him. It’s hard to comfort and make someone feel better when you felt the same pain. Most people think that it helps, there’s an understanding, but that’s a misconception. Past experiences are what helped build that empathy. It was different when you were both hurting at the same time, both unsure how to move past it, how to be there for each other.

But as those weeks turned to months, we had set into a routine that we had never encountered before. Before…before this, we were unpredictable. Staying up late just to wake up early for work the next day and doing it all over again. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other, and Rowan had swelled with pride for being the one to introduce us. Then he proposed during a vacation in Aspen one winter, and I had cried from pure happiness. People had told us that things would change after getting married, that the magic would disappear, but it never did. It was like we were falling in love all over again. It only grew when I had showed him the test. It was his turn to cry as he hugged me close, his tears soaking into my hair as he kept kissing my head. His murmurs of thank you warmed my heart.

It all crashed around us though. The irony tasted bitter on my tongue. We had talked about the scales, his were for his career, mine for a fixation of a Greek goddess I learned about in school. The tattoo on my shoulders taunted me, reminding me what they had stood for. We had so much in our life, so much happiness that the balance was off. And one night, I was in the hospital because I had gone into labor early, way too early. I had gone home empty, just the two of us. It was John who would pick me up off the floor of our baby’s room, it was John who would make sure I ate.

Until suddenly we weren’t mourning together anymore. Suddenly there was a huge gap between us at night, both of us facing opposite walls. Neither of us would say a word, just sleep. We never got up together, one of us was always gone before the other woke. The dinners were quiet, only small talk filling the silence. Catching up on the lives of our family, but never moving forward with ours.

I had taken cooking lessons, finally breaking down and learning. John would cook most of the time, but suddenly he was locking himself in his home office, not eating most nights or grabbing something on the way home. I got tired of the takeout pretty quickly. Rowan offered to go with me, just so I didn’t go alone. She had been excited, seeing it as a way of me trying to cope and move forward. I hadn’t told her that John and I had stopped eating together. I didn’t want to worry her. But now, he wasn’t even coming home until late at night. Staying and working late at the office until well past midnight.

I sighed as I put on my jean jacket, the white sundress soft against my skin. The tan leather belt snug around me as I checked myself in the mirror. I made sure to put more effort in today. Whitney was always so observant; she would’ve easily picked up on the dark circles under my eyes. Fluffing my hair one more time, I grab my purse and keys to my Lexus. The Atlanta heat was getting to me just a little bit, but it wasn’t the worst I’ve dealt with.

She was already there by the time I arrived, the hostess taking me to the outside patio. She looked up at me, her smile bright. Her golden hair was braided loosely, the light button up was thin with a tank top just underneath. She still looked like the art teacher she used to be. Rising, she pulls me close for a hug. I return it with a forced smile, guilt in the pit of my stomach for not being more excited to see my sister-in-law.

“I’m glad you could make it. Rowan is home with Luna, poor thing is sick.” Whitney explained as we sat down. “I told her to keep me updated.”

“I hope she feels better soon.” I reply as I frown at her. Whitney just agrees with a small shrug. “How’s Joseph? And the kids?”

“Joseph is doing great.” She smiled even brighter; I hadn’t thought it was possible. “He’s with the kids right now, he took them to the zoo for some quality time.”

A pang of jealousy shot through me, but I quickly shoved it aside. “That’s good. I’m glad everyone is doing great.” Whitney gave me a look, but the waitress had come over for our order. “Including Faith. This damn wedding…”

“Oh, don’t get me started.” Whitney groaned. “I love Faith, but I’m so glad she’s the last to get married. I can’t keep doing this. Poor Jacob hides away when she’s over there for Rowan’s help.”

“You’re coming this weekend for the dress shopping, right?”

Whitney scoffed. “Absolutely. I wouldn’t miss either of them for the world.”

“Two of them.” I shook my head with a laugh. “I can’t handle two bridezillas.”

“Jane isn’t too stressed about it. It’s Faith that’s getting overwhelmed. She wants everything to be perfect. John’s helping with some of it, isn’t he?”

I opened my mouth to try and come up with an answer, but the waitress saved me. Setting the food down in front of us, I saw it as an opportunity to change the subject. We ate our food and sipped mimosas. Soon we were laughing, enjoying the shenanigans of the Seed family. That only led to us planning a family dinner. Worry began to seep in. We hadn’t been with the entire family like that in a while. I knew that they would see it, see how far we had drifted. How I had noticed him coming home later and later, to the point I barely saw him anymore. I would stare at his bare back in the mornings as I got ready to meet at the gym, the lines of his muscles tense. Some mornings I would run my fingers lightly against them or in his hair, just to reassure myself that he was real. That dark feeling began to grow, twisting inside until I was spitting it into the open.

“Do you think John is cheating on me?” I asked, my mask breaking. Whitney frowned, completely shocked by the turn of events.

“What? No. Why would I think that?” My face was hiding behind my hands as I fought back the tears. “Wren? What’s going on?”

I wiped a few escaped tears away and she reached for my hand, holding it tightly in hers. “I—I haven’t been honest with you. Any of you. Things…things haven’t been so great.” I say, my voice thick with emotion. But the weight…god, did it feel good to have the weight lifted for just a moment.

“Okay, what do you mean?”

I looked down for a moment. “Ever since…ever since we lost the baby, things have been hard, you know? And I’m so thankful to you and Joseph for being there to help. But things…I don’t see him anymore, Whitney. Our marriage has been…I don’t think either of us have been able to bounce back from this. And I don’t understand, because we were so strong before. We were solid. Now? It’s like we don’t even know each other anymore. I’m in this endless loop of heartbreak and he’s throwing himself into work. And I can’t fault him for that, not really. It’s John, you know? He’ll talk about it when he’s ready, but neither of us have been ready. And now…” I trail off, forgetting exactly where I had been going with this. All these emotions coming out at once, pulling me in different directions, and I was becoming so lost.

“What you two went through…Wren, it was difficult at best. I understand that you both are still mourning—”

“And that’s the thing, Whitney. I’m…I’m accepting it. Joseph helped me with that. He helped me understand that that’s okay. But this rift? This…whatever we had become in the process, it’s getting worse. We don’t—I don’t know how to be that woman anymore. I don’t know how to be the woman he wanted so badly.” I scoff as I wipe another tear away. “There’s this girl that’s been working there for the last few months, and she’s gorgeous, Whitney. And all I can think to myself is how he might not love me anymore. He doesn’t want me anymore, and he hasn’t _touched_ me in so long. I feel so fucking alone.”

She pulls my hand away from my face, holding them both tightly as she leans in close. “Listen to me, Wren. John loves you; he loves you more than anything in this world. I promise you this. You are his everything. You are the one he settled down with, you’re the one he had to have, sweetie. Believe me, watching a bachelor like him try and ask his brothers on how to do all this? It was priceless. He was not the type to do this before you, sweetie. It wasn’t him. But he met you,” she gave me a small, heartfelt smile. “And it changed everything. _He loves you_.”

“But…” I sniffled as I held onto her tightly. As if I let go, I would float away. “But what if I’m not enough anymore? What if he can’t do this anymore? What if this is…what if this is it?” My voice broke at the thought, I didn’t even want to entertain the idea of it. But the doubt and fear were seeping in. Her grip tightened.

“Stop it. Don’t do this to yourself. This isn’t the end, every marriage has it’s rough patches.” She sighed, leaning back with a faraway look in her eye. “Joseph and I separated for a while, not long before you met John.”

“You…what?” I breathed out. Whitney and Joseph were the epitome of a perfect marriage. They were so supportive of each other and they were amazing parents. They always seemed to have everything together.

“Yeah, we got into a huge fight, and we were just…done. We thought about getting a divorce and just walking away from it. But then…then one night, I don’t know, something just snapped in me. I know this sounds really stupid, but for the life of me, I couldn’t open a jar. A stupid jar. And I just started crying, because Joseph would always be there to help, and he wasn’t this time. So, I called him, a crying mess, and he rushed over from John’s. He thought the worst, because well, I wasn’t very clear. He burst through the door, John on his heels, and finds me wrapped up in a blanket trying to open a jar of jelly.” She full on starts laughing now. “After everything settled, John would buy me jars of jelly just because. The point is, however, that no one is perfect. You and John are going to be fine; you just have to work through it.”

I sighed. “You think so?”

“I know so. You guys are great. So tonight, you’re going to cook dinner, and actually eat with my stupid brother-in-law.”

I laughed with her as we finished our lunch. Part of me had felt better, even just a little bit. So, after lunch, I finished my errands. Grocery shopping and all the little things. Being so lost in my thoughts, Whitney’s words running through my mind over and over. I wanted to believe her; I really did. But gnawing of doubt was there, present as ever. And as I was cooking, I couldn’t help but notice the lack of the front door opening. So, I ate in silence at our dinner table with a glass of wine, staring at our wedding picture that hung above our mantel. Washing the dishes, I felt stupid. I was letting this happen. I was just as guilty as he was, not reaching out and letting him know I was here. I huffed, drying my hands as I put a helping in some Tupperware. I was going to put forth the effort and pray that he met me halfway.

The drive to his office wasn’t that long, maybe fifteen minutes. It was pushing 8 o’clock, so I was worried he had already eaten. I bit my lip as I walked through the lobby of his building, making my way to the elevators. I had to at least try. I wanted us to get better. I missed us, I missed _him_. And the more I thought about it, the deeper I felt it. I couldn’t do this anymore; I couldn’t keep living like this. I needed my husband.

The elevator dinged and opened to his floor. The lights were off, everyone was gone. I could hear the running of a copier, though, so I continued. Stopping by the front desk, I could see the light from the room adjacent. He was leaned over it, waiting as the printer did its job. I loved watching John work most of the time. I always thought he looked sexy, so focused on what was in front of him. It had led to a messy desk, things shoved haphazardly out of the way in the end. I chuckled lowly to myself at the times he had to fix or replace laptops over it. I was banned from his home office for a short time for punishment. Like I said, it was a short time.

He rolled his shoulders, and I could hear a sigh escape his lips. I knew he was stressed. I could tell from the tension, I had rubbed his shoulders so many times over the last 5 years, that I knew he was pushing himself to the limit. I felt the urge then, to run over and pull him away as I held him. I could only imagine the headache that was beginning to set in. My heart tugged at the sight, but then I saw her. Blonde hair done up, cute pencil skirt with a white button up. The top two buttons were undone, showing off her collarbone. If I concentrated, I could still feel the last time his tongue ran over mine. 

“You know John, all this printing should be illegal.” Her voice rang out lightly. “Should I just ask you to sue now or later.”

John scoffed, his shoulders shifting at the action. “If you’re thinking about suing me for having you make copies, I’m warning you that I’ll defend myself. Hope you’re prepared to lose, Miss Pepper.”

She giggles at his joke, and I imagine that if her hair was down, she would have flipped it over her shoulder. Instead, she lightly swats his arm. My blood goes cold when she doesn’t retract it, her fingers curl around his bicep and she’s sliding it up. I take a step back as she takes a step forward, pressing herself against him and he’s quick, despite how tired he seemed, as he grabs her wrist. He takes a step back, pushing her hand back before letting go.

“What are you doing, Holly?” he asked, his voice is low and contained, but I knew him enough to detect the anger just below the surface. I always admired his self-control.

She lets out a nervous laugh as she gives him an innocent look that could almost fool anyone. “I just thought…there’s something here, John. I’ve been thinking about it for a while—" She takes a step, her hand reaching back out, every intention of pressing it against his chest, but he grabs her wrist and scoffs.

“I’m married, Holly.” His tone has hardened from the anger that is seeping out at this point, a hint of disbelief the only thing to soften the blow for her. But she didn’t need it. No, in a second, the innocent look was gone, replaced with a venomous, twisted smirk.

“Your marriage is dead, John.” She whispered and my heart can feel the fangs of this snake and its venom. I squeeze the edge of the reception’s desk as she continues. “There’s nothing left there. Wren can’t help your needs like I can, she can’t take care of you the way I can.” She clicks her tongue and tilts her head tilting only slightly. “Are you even happy anymore? Because from here, it doesn’t seem like it.”

His jaw ticks as he squeezes her hand a little harder, and I relish in the small flinch she tries to hide. A dark emotion twists inside me, and I wish that he would break it. “I love my wife.” He sneers, glaring at her in a way I haven’t seen him in a long time. My breath stutters as I watch my husband shove her hand aside, no longer as careful in controlling his emotions. I swallow, squeezing my thighs together as heat rushes to my cheeks. This…this was the most emotion I’d seen from him in so long. A phone began to ring, pulling me from my trance.

John curses as he checks his phone, then glares at Holly. “It’s my brother, I have to get this. This isn’t over, Holly. We’ll be discussing this in the morning.” He turns away and I take that as my que to leave.

I’m numb on my way home, not sure exactly how to process what I’m feeling. I sigh as I park my car and unlock the front door. Exhaustion made my body feel heavy, and I could hear Whitney in my mind, telling me to take care of myself. As easy as it would be to hide under the covers, I knew better. So, I began to hum to myself as I drew a bubble bath for myself. The warm water and the bubbles helped, even just a bit, to relax. I shave, singing along to the music playing on the Bluetooth speaker.

Draining the water, I stand and dry myself off. Wrapping my hair into the towel, I walked into our bedroom. Pulling my top drawer, I grab a nightgown and slip it on. This one had been an anniversary present from John a few years ago. The navy-blue silk was soft, the straps crossing down my back. It ended barely midthigh, my back almost completely bare, it wasn’t designed for just sleeping. It was, however, heavenly to sleep in. Grabbing a bottle of lotion, opting for vanilla souffle. I rubbed the crème over my smooth legs, neck, and arms.

I pulled the towel from my hair and tossed into the hamper before making my way back to the bathroom. Grabbing a brush and my hair dryer, I began to lightly blow dry it. I hated going to bed with wet hair, which is why I normally showered earlier in the evening. I hated getting my pillows wet, especially since John’s taste was…well, expensive. Once my hair was semi-dry, I flipped the lights off and locked the front door. Putting in the security code to arm the alarm before I found myself in our grey sheets and comforter. Another night on my side as I stared out the window, wishing that sleep would find me, but for some reason, I was wide awake.

  
  
  


  
I stormed into my office, slamming the door behind me. I sighed heavily, looking at the screen of my phone as Joseph’s contact info flashed at me. I wish I could say I had the patience for this, that this case hadn’t taken every fucking thing out of me. Never seeing my own fucking _wife_. I grinded my teeth as I felt my skin burn where Holly had placed her hand. I quickly sit down, pinching my nose as I answer the phone to drive that out of my mind.

“Hello?” I winced at the gruffness in my voice, the exhaustion making itself well-known.

“John, how are you doing? Are you okay?” I almost sigh in frustration, but it’s Joseph’s tone that stops me. I furrowed my brow. He was always the gentlest out of us three brothers. Jacob was blunter and more unforgiving, I was more smooth-talking, very much the silver-tongued devil Wren claimed I was. But there was a subtle concern in Joseph’s voice that wasn’t so subtle to me. “You know you can tell me anything, John. I will never judge you; people go through things and make mistakes. I’m here for you, brother.”

My blood boils as I feel a sharp pain in my chest. Betrayal for what I believed Joseph was implying. We haven’t had a conversation like this since a little after I had first met Wren. I scoff in disdain. “Jesus, Joseph, I’m not using again. If this is what this is about. I’ve been clean for years, you know that.” If I come across harsher than I intend, I don’t care. I didn’t have the patience for this tonight.

“No, John, I know. That wasn’t what I was saying. I know you’re clean.” He clears his throat and I can just picture him shuffling uneasily. “What you and Wren went through…that’s not easy.” Another painful twist in my chest, but this was for another reason completely.

Joseph was young when he lost his first wife and daughter. I remember it, the way it had almost destroyed my brother. Witnessing Wren was different, but not far off. Joseph suffered in silence, while Wren lost her voice multiple times from screaming and crying, curled into a ball on our bed. I held her close the best I could, but it killed me more and more when it didn’t help. It was Joseph she ended up turning to in the end. And as grateful as I was to him for that, part of me held resentment for not being able to comfort her like I should as a husband. I had felt I had failed her in every way.

I’m startled from my train of thoughts when I hear yelling on the other line. I couldn’t make out the words, but I knew Whitney’s voice when I heard it. Joseph mumbles his reply, but I don’t pay any mind to it. Whitney was just as soft and gentle as Joseph; she was never one to yell. No, that was left to Rowan when it was needed. It amuses Jacob to no end, and we all knew that those two were perfect for each other. No one could stand up to Jacob the way she did.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Joseph, give me the damn phone!” I hear rustling for a few seconds, and I feel sorry for my brother just for a second. But that goes right out the window when Whitney addresses me. “Where the hell are you right now?” she asked in a sickly-sweet voice that immediately has my guard going up. It wasn’t sweet enough to mask the wrathful undertone, and that raised warning signs. My mind raced to try to understand what could have caused this treatment from my family.

“I’m at my office, Whitney. Why?” I respond carefully, unsure as to where this was heading. She scoffs. She actually scoffs at me before she’s digging into me.

“Do you know what I did today?” I’ve done my job long enough to know when I was being set up like this, practically being circled like I was some sort of prey. I didn’t much care for it. “Do you know what I had to _hear_ today?”

I immediately become irritated. Her taunting was pushing me closer to the edge. I pinch the bridge of my nose as I count to ten, exhaling heavily. Wren was always so straightforward, so honest, I just got used to that. I didn’t appreciate leading questions, I dealt with that enough at work. “No, Whitney. Obviously, I don’t know those things.”

“Well, I had a nice lunch date with your lovely wife, John.” She hums condescendingly in the phone, and I clench my jaw. “I wonder, how has she been lately?”

“Fine, Whitney.” I snap out at her. “She’s fine—”

“Oh really?” She drops the façade, and I can hear the rage in her voice. It shocks me just enough to lose some of the heat in my temper as I listen. “That’s funny, John, because she asked me if I thought you were having a fucking affair.” I freeze, not sure that I’ve processed what she said correctly. Whitney lets out a humorless laugh, continuing with disappointment and sadness dripping of her tongue. “John, she thinks you’re cheating on her.”

I fall back against my chair, my mind buzzing, and I can’t help the twist in my chest that comes. Part of me feels betrayed that Wren doesn’t trust me. That she believed I would dare to do that to her. The other part is pissed. Angry at myself for allowing this shit to go on for so long and realizing I had given her too much space. “I love my wife.” I whisper, mostly to myself, but Whitney hears it.

“I know, John.” She’s no longer angry, just understanding, and it makes this worse. Because I’m defending us to everyone. To a woman I barely even knew, to my sister-in-law and brother. I’m saying that I love her like it’s a lifeline, like it’s my only defense, and it _pisses me off_. I promised, _vowed_ , in front of her and my brother. I committed myself, body and soul, to Wren in front of everyone we knew and loved, because she is the only one I want. The only one I’ll ever want. “But something’s gotta give. I’m only calling because I care. I love you guys.”

It twists again, because I know that the only reason Whitney is even on the phone with me right now is for Wren. Because of a conversation they no doubt had in confidence. Her love for Wren went beyond keeping this between them. The betrayal is there, just beneath the surface, reminding me that my wife went to my sister-in-law, and not me. She never hinted about it or brought it up. She had kept this to herself, and I had no clue as to how long. My blood is boiling the more I think about it. I scan the office, and my eyes catch something that I hadn’t noticed before.

I stand, making my way to the reception area. Whitney is saying something, but I’m not paying her any attention. I finger the Tupperware on the desk, confused. Had Jane left this here? I didn’t think so. I’m trying to think, to come up with an explanation, but it hits me. I recognize the plastic, seeing that we had plenty just like it back home. I open the lid, and my heart sinks. My favorite dish staring back at me has me sighing. I didn’t know when she had been here, or what she saw, but Wren had been here to drop off dinner. Because I was working late here. Again.

“I gotta go, Whitney.”

“What—” I hang up, cutting her off, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I’m walking back to our kitchen to heat it up. I eat it, sitting in my office. I scoff, because it’s actually good, and I can’t remember when Wren had learned to cook. I shift in my chair because all I can hear is Whitney’s voice, angry and concerned. I shove the empty container, a bitter taste in my mouth.

The drive home is quiet, the radio off so I’m alone with my thoughts. That only fueled what was boiling in my chest. I don’t intend to, but I slam my car door when I get out. I sigh as I unlock the door, making sure I shut it gently. The house is dead silent, and its dark save for the overhead stove light. I set my briefcase on our bar, shrugging off my suit jacket and unbuttoning the cuffs. The tie comes off next, and I think that maybe this will help me breathe easier as I unbutton the top buttons. I’m wrong, and suddenly, I’m needing a stiff drink.

I don’t know how long I sat there, nursing glass after glass. The bottle of scotch Wren had bought me for our anniversary last year is about half empty. That’s when I hear her feet pad along the hardwood floor, smacking louder once she hits the tile of our kitchen. Her hair is a mess, and I know her sleep had been restless. I think about my fingers running through it, tugging on the knots there. I lick my lips, the taste of scotch there as she opens a cabinet next to the sink. She reaches up on her tip toes, hand extended for a glass, and her nightgown, god that fucking short ass nightgown, rides up. She’s not wearing underwear, from what I can see, as the edge comes up just enough to give me a peek of her ass. My cock starts to harden as I imagine bending her over just to see if I was right.

I clench my teeth as I grip my glass harder. This fucking woman…she doesn’t fucking know what she does to me, or maybe she does. But I wasn’t sure if she was aware that I was here. My eyes travel over her, hesitating over the tattoo on her left thigh. I smirk as I take another drink, remembering giving it to her, and marking her forever mine. My cock twitches, and I can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or the fact that I haven’t had her in so long that has me acting like a horny teenager again. She finds what she’s looking for, and as she fills her cup with water, her phone goes off. I take another sip.

I’m startled awake, but the house is silent. I turn to see his side empty and frown. I could’ve sworn I had heard his car earlier, and I check the clock. I had only been asleep for a few hours; it was finally reaching the late hours of the night, just a little over midnight. I groan, forcing myself out of bed, my mouth dry. I rub my eyes as I walk through our silent house. If he was home, then he must be in his office. I didn’t want to really disturb him; I was only up for a glass of water and then going right back to bed.

I lean up to grab a glass, cursing my height to all hell. I felt like a child in this damn kitchen, only because I wasn’t exactly tall. I usually had John to help, which only led to light teasing from him. About how despite me being so short, I was the perfect size for him. I immediately blush and shove that back in the confines of my mind, I wasn’t in the mood for _those_ kinds of thoughts. I sigh as I fill the glass with tap water, not bothering getting it from the fridge. I take a drink, relishing in the lukewarm water as if it was the finest of wines. It gives me the relief I was looking for. I nearly jump out of my skin as my phone starts to ring, scaring the hell out of me.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I mutter as I set the glass down and check the caller ID. I had completely forgotten I had put in on the charger in here. Not that I minded, I didn’t want it waking me up when I had trouble sleeping as is. I furrowed my brow as I checked the name on my screen. I answer it, putting it on speaker. “Hello?” I ask tentatively.

“Oh, thank god. Rowan didn’t answer.” Whitney sighed in relief on the other line, and I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, because she’s probably _sleeping_.” I reply dryly. I hadn’t been sleeping, sure, but she didn’t know that.

“I’ll have you know that they’re out on a date night tonight, thank you very much. I’m babysitting Luna.” I pretend to not feel the sting that Rowan hadn’t asked me, it was probably for the best anyway, so I hum before I’m throwing her my response.

“Little past Jake’s bedtime, isn’t it?” I force a smirk, because I want her to think I’m good. That I don’t miss my family, or the ghost of my husband, despite the things that I had said earlier. Because I can vaguely remember having Luna over, the three of us having the best nights. Luna would beg them to let her come over, and Jacob was always reluctant because of our shenanigans.

Whitney groans. “Oh Jesus, you’re so bad. You’re just like him, you know that? You two are just perfect together.” I laugh at that, a wistful smile replacing the smirk. That was true, so very true. We fit together perfectly. But then I see _her_ hand on his arm as she tries to press herself against him, and the feeling is gone with a roll of my stomach.

“Why are you calling me so late?” I ask, getting to the point.

“Oh.” Whitney asked, shocked by my abruptness. “I couldn’t call to see how you’re doing and how your day was?” She’s teasingly defensive, thrown off guard by the change in my tone

“I just had lunch with you.” I replied exasperated.

“Well, I—”

“Whitney.”

There are a few seconds of silence before she’s sighing heavily. “Faith called me. She was crying, something went wrong.” There’s a shock going through my body, before I’m grabbing my keys off the counter. “NO! Do _not_ drive here! She’s fine, I swear. God, I don’t need you showing up here naked to check on Faith.”

“I am _not_ naked!” I scoffed out, offended.

“Are you even wearing underwear?” she asked, her voice hushed.

It was my turn to go silent as I throw a quick glance down, eyeing the suggestive number I had on. Realization dawns on me, but that doesn’t mean she needs to know that she’s actually right. “That’s a weird thing to ask your sister-in-law, Whitney.” I replied defensively, instead of answering her question, pulling a move from John’s book. She doesn’t take the bait, however, and sees right through me.

“That’s a _no,_ then. Yeah, I don’t need a repeat of last time a few years ago—”

“That was your fault! You came over early!”

“We had it _planned—”_

“Not that early!”

“We had to get everything ready—”

“For the holiday that we were celebrating in the privacy of our home—”

“It was _fucking Easter._ ”

“Yeah, it was.” I clap back as I try to hold back laughter.

“Oh my go—I saw my brother-in-law’s bare ass that day, Wren Marie. That’s something I should never see in my lifetime!”

“Oooh, using my middle name. I _am_ in trouble.” I teased and she just scoffs. So, I smirk and take it a step further to really rifle those feathers. “It’s a nice ass though, isn’t it?”

“God damn it, Wren!” I can’t hold back the laughter this time. I could imagine her face beet red and flustered. “My point is that I don’t want you showing up here in just a t-shirt of John’s and no underwear!”

“Crop top, actually.” I lied smoothly, as I lean forward onto the countertop, I crossed my arms. “Leaves little to the imagination and isn’t as constricting as a bra. Gets the job done. Besides, John is more of an ass man himself.” She chokes, actually chokes, and I just shake my head. “Chill, Whitney. I’m just fucking with you. What’s going on with Faith?” I ask as I sober up a bit, taking another sip of my water.

“So, apparently the florist told her she can’t order those lilies she wants for her wedding. She is losing it, and I was hoping that you might know someone, or maybe John did…?”

I narrow my eyes at my phone, a little irritated. “Whitney, you called me this late for _flowers_?” Whitney sighs, and I immediately know she isn’t telling me everything. “What’s really going on?” I ask quietly.

“Faith…I think Faith is getting some sort of form of cold feet. I don’t know. She ended up coming here and staying the night. I guess her and Jane got into a fight, and Faith just walked out.”

“Over what?” I try not to sound like I just got the wind knocked out of me, because that’s exactly how I feel in that moment. I hated talking about relationship problems, it reminded me of my own. Jane and Faith just seemed so…perfect.

Whitney scoffs, and I imagine her waving her hand around dramatically. She always talked with her hands. “I’m not even entirely sure. She talked about the flowers first. And then everything else just…came out. She’s worried Jane is going to a strip club for her bachelorette party, and we haven’t exactly planned hers out yet. So, she wants to go out of spite. It’s just all….” _Exhausting_. Neither of us say it, but I know we’re both thinking it. Faith was the baby sister, this had to be perfect.

“Let me take care of it.” I reply, throwing my keys back on the counter.

“The strip club?”

“No, the flowers. I’ll take care of it in the morning. I know a guy. Also, Rowan and I will come up something for the bachelorette party.” I could feel the weight of it already, pressing down on my shoulders creating stress. “She shouldn’t do something like that out of spite. She’ll regret it in the end.”

“You’re seriously amazing. I love you. Have I told you that recently? You’re appreciated and I love you. You should come over tomorrow to see the twins and Luna. They would be excited to see Aunt Wren. Drag John, too. It’ll do him some good.”

“I’m not going to make any promises, it’s the middle of the week. He has to work.” I replied, automatically defending my husband. I bit my lip, I hated this. I tried to steer the conversation. “I could pop in, say hi. Maybe stay for dinner and visit Faith to see if I can help ease this whole thing over.”

“Well, if you stay for dinner, you should definitely bring John along. He eats, too, doesn’t he?”

I hesitate, not sure how I feel about her tone or her persistence in John coming. There’s something there I can’t put my finger on. “You know, he’s working on this huge case right now. It’s super big for them.” I take another drink, finishing off the remaining bit of water. “It’s exciting, but I’m not sure if John will be able to make it. I’ll let him know, though, and then we can go from there to see if he can squeeze it in.”

“You make it sound like you’re his secretary and that you already know he won’t come.”

I sigh, placing the glass in the sink, and immediately regret saying a fucking word to her at lunch. I knew her heart was in the right place, but I could feel myself growing defensive. John _worked_. My feelings, the troubled marriage, didn’t change that. Didn’t change how passionately he worked, or how much he loved it. I would never take that away from him, even if it meant dealing with _her_. I push up from the counter, shifting as my hand clutching the edge and I pinche the bridge of my nose with the other. I squeeze my eyes shut as a headache begins to form. Despite any of it, I would _always_ support him. I vowed to.

“I’m just telling you he’s busy. I’ll let him know, and he’ll try everything he can to be there. He loves his family, Whitney. He’ll be excited to see everyone, I’m sure. But I’m not going to force him from work, it’s not fair of me to do that to him.” I gave it a beat of a moment before I chimed in again. “And I thought we were trying to plan a family dinner together for this weekend or next. What brought this on?”

“Nothing!” Whitney replied quickly and I raised by brow at my phone as I lean my hip against the counter this time, and I place a hand on my hip. I have to swallow the scoff that tries to rise from my throat. She was always such a terrible liar, and I didn’t have to be as talented as John to read her, even over the phone. Whitney was officially lying and keeping something from me, and it _hurt_. “I just think it would be fun, is all. I thought that since Luna is here, and you’ll be out and about anyway, it would just be a good opportunity.”

For what? I want to ask, but part of me is worried that I’m getting too defensive, I’m too paranoid. Not everything people say has a double meaning, I needed to remind myself of that. But I couldn’t shake off the feeling of being cornered, or maybe even baited, into something. I bite my lip and play with my wedding rings, twisting them back and forth as my mind races, trying to find something to say. Whitney continues at the sound of my silence, and I shift my weight from on foot to the other as

“Joseph would be here. I think it would cool for y’all to talk; you know? It _has_ been awhile.” And just like that, it’s as if someone had doused me in ice water. Her motives were bare and not as genuine or sincere as she had me believe, and I clench my teeth to keep the sneer off my face. I know what she’s doing, baiting me, _us_ , into an unexpected marriage counseling that I hadn’t asked for. I try not to feel the wrath in my veins for her overstepping, because this is _my fault_. It was I who made her worry enough to try and intervene. I flinched, imagining the look John would throw me if we went through with this, completely unawares and ambushed. No. No, I couldn’t do that to John, it wasn’t fair for either of us. Not giving ourselves the chance to fix it ourselves, assuming we were fixable. I ignore the harsh twist of my heart, and I rub my chest as I respond.

“It has, but that’s why we want to see the whole family, right?” I learned a lot of things from my husband, Rowan often telling me that I had developed a silver tongue myself from all the years of being with him. I’m twisting words, using her own against her. If it’s harsh, I don’t care. I’m drawing the line with the sharp cut of my tongue, a knife that I pull in defense of John against anyone. She hesitates, because Whitney understood my language. While I’m quiet to others, I’m loud to Whitney and John.

She knows not to press, to not push anymore or else I won’t do her the kindness of offering a way out of the hole she was digging. Whitney clears her throat and laughs. “No, you’re right. I get it. It’s extremely last minute and it’s late. That wouldn’t be fair to John. If you can swing by and talk to Faith, that would be appreciated. Can you do that?”

“Absolutely!” I replied with a small smile. “I’ll talk her through it. I seriously doubt Jane going to a strip club is _truly_ the problem. We’ll get this smoothed out. In the meantime, both of you get some rest. I’m tired as hell because someone called me in the middle of the night to bitch about lilies.”

“Yeah, yeah. I hear you. Thanks, hun. I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you.”

“See yah later, girl. Love you too.” I press the end button and groan as my head falls back. I tried counting, but the slight pounding in my head wouldn’t let me. I go to grab my phone with a sigh, every intention of going right back to bed to fight my way back to sleep. I debated for a second if perhaps a stronger drink would make it easier.

“Whitney seems to have her hands full.” A voice called out, and I jump, dropping my phone as I gasp. I quickly turn, one hand on my chest as the other instinctively goes to reach for the knife block. I breathe out as I finally process what I’m seeing.

“Jesus fucking Christ, John. Don’t sneak up on me like that.” I chided lightly as hunch forward in relief. The light above the stove gives him both a heavenly glow and dark shadows, both clashing together across his handsome face. His blue eyes are bright, though, despite the darkness around us. I frown as I take in his state, the bottle of scotch is more than half gone as he finishes off what’s left in his glass, his eyes not leaving my face.

My back straightens as my chin juts out the slightest bit. I feel the corner of my mouth twitch, but other than that, I keep the sneer off my face. Disappointment is what that heavy feeling settling in my stomach. That it’s the first time we’ve truly been alone together in silence in months, and I have to wake in the middle of the night while he drinks to get it. I swallow the venom on my tongue. It occurs to me then that he had to have been sitting there since he got home, if the briefcase and suit jacket told me anything.

“How was your lunch date with my sister-in-law?” he asked, his honey voice carrying a tone I tried to decipher.

“It was…fine. I enjoyed her company, and she even suggested the family getting together.” I replied carefully with a frown. I didn’t…I tried hard to wrack my brain, but for the life of me, I couldn’t recall telling John that I was having a lunch date with Whitney. I also didn’t care for the feeling his words gave me, the way his tone just on the cusp of condescending. There was something just beneath the surface of him, but I choose to ignore it the best I can as he watches me as a wolf watches a deer. I take a step forward, eyeing the bottle. “You’ve been busy.”

He hums with a taunting smirk, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. He’s drunk and my lips purse in disapproval. I hated him like this, and he knew it, too. He hadn’t been like this in a long time, and I couldn’t figure out why he was suddenly falling onto bad habits. Casual drinking, sure. One here and there some nights, absolutely. But this? He only tilts his head. “What’s wrong, darling? Something on your mind? Something you would like to share, perhaps?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, and I could feel myself rising to his challenge, the coals of disapproval becoming full on wrathful anger, bitter and white hot. Him and his fucking games, and if he wanted to play, I would play. “Yes, I believe there is.” I smile at him as I walk forward, a twisted sweet smile that dripped with poison that was ready for me to rip into him the second the opportunity presented itself. I grab the neck of the bottle, the glass smooth against my skin as I grip it tight. “I think you’ve had enough, don’t you?”

His hand darts out and grips my wrist firmly, his eyes flashing as his glass is placed on the marble. “I’m not finished.” His blue eyes are burning at this point, and I _know_ there’s something there. I fight the shiver that threatened to crawl down my spine. My heart raced as we stared for just a second, secretly taken aback by the dark passion in his eyes that I hadn’t witnessed in months. Part of me wants to reach out, to caress his tattooed skin the way I used to when he held me. His touch sparks something across my skin that I hadn’t felt in what felt like forever. The other part, the winning side, wants to hurt him with the icy words on my tongue that makes the corner of my mouth twitch the slightest bit.

“I think you are. Now,” I replied, my gaze piercing into his, matching his intensity in return. “Remove. Your. Hand.” John had suffered many things in his lifetime: childhood abuse, addictions, anger issues, and the lack of genuine relationships. John was no stranger to violence, but he, to his core, was not a man to ever raise his hand against me. His hand had brought nothing but support, comfort and love in my time with him. I didn’t fear John, because I had no reason to. He never gave me a reason to be, and I knew he never would. So that wasn’t what caused me to attempt to yank my hand away, no. It was the memory of how he held Holly’s wrist the same way mere hours prior. It churns my stomach with a jealousy that was suffocating. He touched her more than he did me, and it was with the tiniest bit of contact. I finally snapped, wrath and pride winning over everything else. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

He finally relents, his mouth in a tight line. I stumbled back from my momentum, and the bottle slips from my hand in shock, the sound of the shattering glass echoing loudly through the empty house. I gasp as I watched as the amber liquid, now looking black, spread across the tiled floor. Tears of frustration pool in my eyes as my breathing quickens. I know what this is, what caused this, but I was too worked up to care. I just needed to leave, to get the fuck out and _now._

“Jesus, Wren.” John huffed with a shake of his head. It was a small comment, the smallest of things, that I normally would have never given a second thought to. Had this happened yesterday, I would’ve laughed sheepishly and apologized. He would shrug and with a ‘it happens’, and then help to clean it. No big deal.

But I whipped my head around, glaring at him in absolute disdain. “Fuck you!” I snapped. My fists were clenched, my body shaking. “And fuck all of this! You’re never fucking here anyway, why the hell are you upset? Because your _precious scotch_ is gone? Big fucking deal, John. Grow up.”

“Grow up? You want _me_ to grow up?” he stood from the bar chair too quickly, knocking it over as he pressed his finger against his chest. “I’m sorry, I’m not the one that refuses to fucking talk—”

“Talk?! You want me to talk?” I yelled. The weight on my chest grows and my heart twists, and I clench my teeth as tightly as I could. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of watching me cry. “That’s rich, because you never fucking listen, John! Assuming I can even see you long enough to have a human conversation with my own husband.”

“And yet you made the time to talk to Whitney.” he pointed to the door as if it proved his point and I freeze, swallowing as my mind raced, but he doesn’t stop. “You had no problem telling _her_ what’s on your mind.”

“That’s not fair.” I breathed out.

He scoffed and tilts his head with a cold smile. “No, it isn’t. It’s not fucking fair that I’m getting a call from my brother and his wife, assuming and _accusing_ me of fucking someone behind _your_ back.”

I’m raging inside, both from him and the fact that Whitney _told_. Just the way he’s looking at me, the way he held himself, I knew that, to him, this was a checkmate move. That only made my anger burn brighter and stronger. “And yet you sound so fucking shocked by it, John.” I shake my head as I laugh humorlessly. “That with you being gone all the time, with women _flirting with you_ —”

“Is this about Holly? Are you fucking kidding me?” He took a step closer to me, rounding the bar. “She’s harmless—”

“I heard and saw the whole fucking thing.” I snapped. “Don’t you fucking dare stand there and tell me she’s harmless, when she stood there pawing at you, telling you I wasn’t fucking enough anymore!”

“If you saw everything, then you already know there’s nothing going on!” he yelled back, disbelief coating his words as his face reddened.

“But you didn’t correct her!” I screamed, the weight finally lifting as I confessed with a sob. The tears broke through as I gasped, the noose tightening around my breaking heart, squeezing as I looked down at the broken glass. I leaned back against the counter, exhaustion taking over as my wrath finally burned out. “You didn’t…you didn’t tell her that she was wrong, that those things weren’t true. You didn’t tell her that you were happy or that I do take care of you, or anything. You just…” I inhaled sharply before laughing to myself. “You know what? Just forget it. Fuck this, I’m done with this conversation. I have an early morning.” I shove away from the counter as he scoffed.

“Oh, no. We’re not done here, darling. Not from a long shot.”

“Well, that sucks for you, John.” I shot at him as I walked around the mess on the kitchen floor. I knew I should stay to clean up the mess, to clean up _both_ of them, but I didn’t have it in me. I just wanted to go back to sleep and to be left alone.

John’s hand suddenly pulls at my upper arm, his grip tight as he turned to me. “Don’t you dare run from this. That’s not like you, that’s not who you are. You don’t run, Wren. Don’t you dare be a coward.”

I immediately shove him back with a glare. “I said don’t fucking touch me.” I snapped, irritation prickling at my skin as he stumbled back with a taunting smirk.

“Jealousy does not suit you, does it?” His tone is condescending, and my jaw ticks as I glare at him. “You were right there, darling, and you let her say those things about you.”

“Shut up.” I replied lowly as my body begins to tingle, my fists clenching and unclenching as we stare each other down. He stalks towards me, his face angled down, and my heart began to race. I swallow, trying my best to hold onto the anger as I feel a pull in my lower abdomen as his hungry eyes watched me.

“You want to know why I didn’t correct her? Why I didn’t ‘defend’ you?”

He took another closer and I shove him back again, but he pulled me along with him, his hands on my arms. “Shut the fuck up!” I growl out as I slam my fists against his chest.

“You can’t be mad at me for not defending you if you can’t even defend yourself, because at the end, you’re so fucking scared that she’s _right_.”

“Because you _fucking touched her!_ ” I screamed as I slapped him across the face, hard. I gasped, stumbling back as I held my tingling hand to my chest. My eyes are wide in absolute shock and I cover my mouth as a dry sob forced its way out of my throat. He had followed it, the force of my hit, making his head whip to the side. I can see the red hand mark developing on his cheek, some of it hidden from his beard. Parts of his hair had fallen loose and hung down, framing his face. “John…baby, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean…” For the first time that night, I sound like myself. The anger is there, but I’m more hurt, and lonely, than anything. I just fucking miss my husband, and the guilt twisted because this wasn’t me. I didn’t want to hurt him. “I…I saw you touch her, John. And I hated it, because I wanted to be her.” I glance down as I fidget with my fingers, my tears returning. “She’s so pretty, and I couldn’t remember the last time you…” I trailed off, not sure how to say it, or anything, because that was a long list.

He looked back at me, a light in his eye that had me losing my breath. I shift a bit, my thighs rubbing together a bit as a slight blush spreads across my face. I take a small step back, embarrassed and hoping he doesn’t notice. But he followed, and then he’s walking quickly to close the gap. I walk backwards into the kitchen table, the force rattling the flower vase in the middle of it. He reached out for me once he was close, but I tried to shove his arms away, not sure what he was trying to do.

He brushed my attempts aside, a hand snaking its way through my hair, his fingers becoming tangled. The other gripped my hip tightly, the silky fabric pulling tighter as it bunches beneath his touch. I gasped as he tugs on my hair, my head pulling back, my face exposed to him completely.

“John—” I breathed out, but he swallowed my words before they could escape. He’s not soft and the kiss isn’t chaste. It’s hard and passionate, as if everything that had been bottled up was thrown into this hurricane of a kiss. In the chaos, my hands found themselves clutching to his shirt desperately, as if my own life depended on it. He pulled back with a bite of my bottom lip. I’m breathless and my hearts racing for a completely different reason than before, and my legs have started to slightly shake as I press my thighs together tight.

“You want to know why I didn’t say those things? Why I didn’t _defend you?_ ” He whispered as he made his way to my ear, pressing a light kiss beside my lobe. His voice is still taunting, and, in this moment, I knew that he had all the power in the world to shatter my heart to pieces. I swallow as he continued, his breath fanning against my skin. “Because I don’t owe her a damn thing, and it’s none of her fucking business to what my wife and I do.” He growled out.

He let me go and I almost whined from the loss. Instantly, my fingers try to clutch tighter to him, and I go to take a step to follow, but he doesn’t give me the chance. His hands grab my hips and spin me around before pressing me against the kitchen table. My hands slap against the wood for support as my mind reels. My body is buzzing, and it feels like I’m on the verge of combusting. It’s too much.

“Wait—"

“Do you think I should tell her how this is your favorite position?” he crooned as his fingers lightly caress their way up my thigh. “Take you to the office to make a show of it? Show her she’s wrong instead?” He chuckled. “Definitely wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had you on my desk, would it, darling?”

I clench my teeth in frustration. That cocky bastard. “John, stop—”

I gasp as his finger rubbed against my slit unexpectedly. “Maybe I could tell her about how quickly you get excited.” He pulled away with dark chuckle. “And darling, you’re _very_ excited.” I blush and duck my head down, embarrassed. It was an odd feeling, not one that I felt hardly ever since I began being intimate with John. But now, in this moment with all things considered, I wanted to pull away and hide. But he gently pressed down on my back, putting me on my elbows. “There we go, just like that, love.”

I breath out through my nose as my heart squeezes. He suddenly pushes my nightgown over my ass, leaving me bare to him. I can’t help but squirm as he breathes out. “Perfect.” He mumbled as he squeezed. He bends over, his hands returning to my hips, and he placed a light kiss in between my shoulder blades. He grinded against me, and I can feel how hard he is against his dress pants. I whimper lightly in response.

He pulled back and, my heart pounds harder and harder when his right hand moves. I jump, completely startled, when his fingers find the bundle of nerves. His other hand is quick as he gently traces the lines of my tattoo. “Shh, darling. I got you.”

His voice is husky and strained. It’s reassuring almost, to know that he was just as affected by this. I sigh as he starts moving in slow, lazy circles. There’s no control as my body pushes back, my ass going higher in the air. He’s teasing, I know, drawing it out as part punishment and to just enjoy the moment. John always took his time, going at his own pace. But I wasn’t sure how long I would last. I was soaked, my knees already weak as my legs shook. He picks up speed and I gasp out a moan as my face becomes flushed. He slips two fingers in, stretching and filling.

He hums when his name falls off my lips with a whisper, and he hisses because it has me clenching around his fingers. He curses, tugging at my hair, and begins pumping his fingers steadily. I can feel everything all at once and there is nothing that could have silenced me. He’s growing eager and impatient, because his pace keeps becoming faster and faster. I’m squirming, but he holds me firmly in place. I’m on the verge, so close to letting go.

“John, please.” I beg breathlessly in between moans and sighs. So close….

“Let go, darling.” His voice is still husky, but it’s light. A softness so subtle I almost don’t catch it. But it’s enough to throw me over the ledge, and with a cry, I come undone around him. I see stars as I ride it, his fingers slowly coming to a stop and pulling out of me. I slump against the table, my heart beating heavily as he grips my hip, his thumb rubbing circles.

He gives me a second to recover, before he’s pulling me from the table and turning me around. His lips find mine with a hungry kiss. He lifts me and sets me on the table, his hands travelling and wandering as I tug at his hair. He pulled back, our eyes catching, and a spark goes through my entire body, because that’s when I see it. The same look he would always give me. From our first night shared, to the honeymoon, and all the other times, the fire in his eyes practically drowned me and I always wanted more. It made everything melt away, all the fears and insecurities, because there wasn’t a damn person in this world that he looked at the way he looked at me. More tears come, both from shame and relief.

“John…” I croak, but he pulled me forward roughly, cutting me off with a gasp. His had is in my hair, tugging and pulling my head back as he attacked my neck. He nibbles a bit on my earlobe, his beard scratching against my skin.

“God, I’ve fucking missed you.” I’m utterly breathless by his confession and the work of magic his mouth was creating. “Do you have any fucking idea how hard it is to come home and see you naked in bed? For me to not be able to touch you? I’ve wanted little to nothing else.”

I open my mouth to respond, but his hands find the front of my night gown, tearing the fabric with ease. I would’ve been more upset if I hadn’t _loved_ it so much. He looks at me darkly with his hands running over the tattoos before making their way to my breasts. My head falls back with a sigh. My blood is humming, singing at all this attention, and it’s almost too overwhelming. Almost.

His hands are gone, but I can hear the undoing of his pants, so my head snaps up in excitement. He strokes himself a time or two as he draws near and I can’t help licking my lips. I wrap my legs around him, hooking my ankles as he slides in and I moan. I try and take a moment to adjust from it being so long, our foreheads touching for a second.

“Fuck, Wren.” John growled, and the heat is growing more and more in my stomach. He kisses me again, long and passionate as his arms wrap around my legs, pulling my ankles apart as I lean back a bit against my hands. He starts to move, and with every thrust, his eyes watch my chest bounce with him. I become embarrassed, a desperate need to cover myself overcomes me, but I can’t without giving up support. I’d loose my balance with the pace John was going. As if he’s reading my mind, or just the blush on my face, he throws me a look. “Don’t you fucking dare. I want to see you, darling. _All_ of you.”

“Yes, John.” I gasp as he goes deeper, his own small grunts and moans edging me closer and closer. I join him, begging for him to go faster and to not stop, the vase knocking over fully by the force of him. I don’t want this to end. I’m worried, in the back of my mind, that once this is over, it’ll go back to what it was. This was the closest I felt to him in months, and I want it to last forever. And with his stamina, I knew John could make it last. But it didn’t look like that was his goal. His thrusts were becoming more and more erratic, the coil tightening more and more, before it finally snaps with a loud cry of his name toward the heavens.

“Fuck.” He groaned as he finally reached his end, filling me. Our heavy breathing is the only thing filling the silence, our skin lightly covered in sweat. He pulls out slowly, a groan escaping his lips from the sensitivity.

“John.” I call lightly as he fixes himself. Placing his hands on either side of me, he leans against the table, looking at me.

“I’m firing her first thing in the morning. There was nothing to defend, not to me. I don’t owe her an explanation, and people are going to believe what they want. I’m sorry that it hurt you. I’m sorry that I’ve been absent. I didn’t know…I thought you wouldn’t want me around, I thought you needed more space.” The look he’s giving me is completely vulnerable and my heart twists.

I place my hands on each side of his face, pulling him closer as our foreheads touch. My face scrunched up, fighting the tears and the sob that’s on the verge of escaping. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, John. I should’ve came to you and told you. I just believed you didn’t want me anymore, and I wouldn’t have been able to handle it.”

John pulled away, brushing away the tears with his thumbs. “I’ll always want you.” He replied softly. “You will always be enough for me, and no one will ever compare. My love for you hasn’t changed.” He leaned in, placing a light kiss on my slightly swollen lips. “We just need some stuff worked out. We’ll talk tomorrow. But tonight, well…”

I squealed in shock as he threw me over his shoulder. “John! What are you doing? Put me down!”

“Darling, there’s glass all over the floor and you’re barefoot. I’m not taking the chance. Besides, I think it’s best we take this to the comfort of our bedroom, don’t you?”

I groaned as he began to walk out of the kitchen. “We both have early mornings tomorrow.”

“Us sleeping in won’t hurt a damn thing, besides darling, you’re gonna need it.” He scoffed, and I jumped at the slap of my ass. “It’s gonna be a long night.”


End file.
